


Six Months

by pippinmctaggart



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fever, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Love, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-09
Updated: 2005-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippinmctaggart/pseuds/pippinmctaggart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy arrives in Hawaii for a visit, but things go a bit pear-shaped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Months

**Author's Note:**

> Unabashed h/c written for [](http://acroamatica.livejournal.com/profile)[**acroamatica**](http://acroamatica.livejournal.com/) for Christmas, and posted now with her blessing. Unbeta'd with my apologies.

“Bill-eeee.” Nudge.

“He’s not here. G’way.”

“Bill-eeeeeeee.” Poke.

He pulled the duvet over his head. “No forwarding address. G’way.”

“Bill-eeeeeeeeee.” Shove.

Billy groaned. “He’s dead. He died last Thursday. G’way, dammit.”

Dom snuffled under the heavy duvet and his nose nuzzled Billy’s ear. “You don’t smell dead to me.”

Billy’s forehead wrinkled. “You know what dead people smell like?”

“No. But I know it’s not like you, because you smell lovely.”

“Dom. I spent over twenty-four sodding hours getting here. Hot planes, cold lounges, delays, and the mingiest cab I’ve ever had the misfortune to ride in. I’m tired, I feel a bit sick, and the fact that I can smell myself means I’m far from fragrant.”

Dom kissed his temple and wriggled further under the duvet. “I’ve missed you,” he said simply. “If you hadn’t showered for a week, you’d still smell lovely to me.”

“I missed you, too, Dom. Like I’d miss my left arm,” he murmured.

“Not your right arm, though?” Dom teased gently, kissing his eyelid.

“No. You’re torturing me. Right arm’s only for people who don’t torture me.”

“You’ve been asleep for nearly thirteen hours, Bills,” he said gently. “You probably feel a little sick because your stomach’s empty. Why don’t you get up and come have some tea and a bite to eat? You can have a kip on the sofa with me later, yeah?”

“No.” He curled into a ball, almost defensively. “Don’t want to get up. Don’t feel well.”

“Oh, my poor Bills.” Dom stroked Billy’s hair off his forehead, then frowned and left his hand there for a moment. “You do feel a bit warm. Okay, you win.”

“Bully for me.”

Dom chuckled. “Stay here, but I’ll bring some tea and toast in for you—you need to eat something. What would you like on your toast?”

A tiny smile lifted Billy’s lips, even though he still had yet to open his eyes. “’S a stupid question.”

Dom grinned. “Peanut butter. You know, you can get that in the U.K. now.”

“Nuh-uh. Marmite and jam in the U.K. Peanut butter’s American. Have it in America. Something to look forward to when I come,” he mumbled.

“And what am I, chopped liver?”

“No, Dom, no—” Billy’s forehead creased in distress. “’Course you’re the only thing I really want—”

“Shh, Bills,” Dom soothed. “I was only teasing, I’m sorry. Look, you lay here quietly and I’ll go get your tea, all right?”

“Okay, Dom. I’ll lie here quietly. Promise I won’t lie here noisily.”

“Very funny, smart man.” Dom slithered out from under the cover to climb off the bed. He reached over and pulled the duvet off Billy’s head, tucking it under his chin. “Don’t keep breathing that stale air, it’s not good for you. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Okay. Dom?” Billy finally opened his eyes, squinting up. “Thanks. I’m sorry I’m such a pain in the arse.”

Dom smiled at him fondly. “It’s all right. As long as you’re _my_ pain in the arse.”

Billy’s eyes fluttered closed, and he sighed in relief.

When Dom returned ten minutes later with a mug in one hand and a small plate in the other, he half-expected to find Billy had fallen asleep again. He was surprised, therefore, to find Billy out of bed and rooting through his bag. He was also concerned to see damp patches of sweat on Billy’s t-shirt.

“Bill? What are you looking for?” He set the plate and mug on the night table and returned to stand behind him.

“Paracetamol,” Billy muttered, yanking rolled socks out of the bag and carelessly tossing them aside. “Know it’s in here. Know I packed it. Where the fuck is it?”

“I’ve got paracetamol, you mad twit,” Dom said, fondly exasperated. “Get back in bed. Come on, I’ll go get your pills, just get your arse back in bed and eat some toast.”

Billy stood up, swaying for just a moment before finding his balance and wearily shuffling back to the bed. He crawled in, huddling under the duvet. “I’m sorry, Dom. If I’d known I was going to get sick, I wouldn’t’ve—“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Boyd,” Dom said sternly, following him to the bed. He leaned over and kissed Billy’s forehead, then softened his voice to say, “I don’t care if you have the bloody _plague_. I’m still glad you’re here, love.”

Billy looked up at him, reached up to caress Dom’s cheek with ice-cold fingers. As Dom covered them with his own warm ones, Billy smiled at him, if a bit weakly, and said, “Me too. Good to know you’re looking after me.”

“Always. Now sit up a bit and wrap your hands around that mug of tea while it’s still hot, and eat some toast.”

“Yes, nurse.” Billy’s smile strengthened.

“You just want to see my arse in scrubs.”

“Well, yeah. Do you blame me?”

“Not in the least,” Dom said breezily.

“Although I wouldn’t object to a little white skirt and a perky wee cap,” Billy added with a snicker.

“Kinky bastard. I’ll be right back.”

“Cheers, love.” As Dom left the bedroom, Billy hauled himself up against the pillows and reached for his tea. He took a sip, then closed his eyes and sighed. Perfect. Hot and sweet and milky, just the way he liked it when he wasn’t feeling well. Trust Dom to remember, even after six months spent almost entirely apart. After a few more sips, he set it aside and picked up the plate, and began to munch on his peanut butter toast.

Dom returned then, smiling to see him eating. “Did I put enough on?”

“No. Cou’ uthe a liddle mo’,” Billy suggested, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Dom laughed. “I might as well bring you the whole jar and let you go at it with your tongue.” He sat on the edge of the bed, a glass of water in one hand.

Billy finished the mouthful he had, licking a dab of peanut butter from his upper lip. “Is it just me, or was that a proposition?”

“The second you’re feeling better, it’s definitely a proposition. Until then—” Dom leaned forward, intending to kiss him, but Billy turned away, leaned away.

“Billy?” Dom questioned, his forehead creased.

He shook his head. “Don’t want to give you whatever I’ve got. I don’t want you to feel sick.”

“I’m healthy as a horse,” Dom said gently, touched. “And I haven’t kissed my dearest one in four months and—” he rapidly calculated, “Twelve days. I’ll risk it.”

Billy looked confused. “Didn’t I kiss you when I came in yesterday? I could have sworn I did…”

“You tried to,” Dom grinned at him. “But you missed by a mile, and were so knackered you didn’t even notice.”

“Wow. That’s pretty bad, isn’t it?”

“Well, I now think you must have already been running a bit of a fever. Speaking of which, here’s your paracetamol.” He waited while Billy set his half-eaten toast aside, then gave him the glass of water and two pills.

Billy looked down at them. “They’re red. Why are you giving me Skittles for a fever?”

“They’re not Skittles, daftie,” Dom snorted with a smile. “Yanks like their drugs to be pretty colours, apparently. My antihistamines are purple and the sleeping pills are yellow.”

“A rainbow pharm—pharma—”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Take them, Bills.”

Billy obediently swallowed both tablets, washing them down with a long drink of water.

“Thirsty?”

“No, I’m okay.” Billy drained the glass.

With a smile, Dom took it from him, then handed over the mug of tea, watching as Billy drank the last of it as well. “Not thirsty, hmm?”

Billy looked at him with wide, slightly glassy eyes. “No. Why?”

“All right, Bills,” Dom said softly, taking the mug back. “Finish your toast, then you can go back to sleep.”

Billy looked at his plate and sighed unhappily. “I’m not hungry anymore. I can’t—I’m sorry, Dom.”

“Shh. It’s all right, love. Lie down, then.”

“Can I go take a piss first?”

Dom chuckled. “Like I’m going to say no? It’s my bed too, Bills—I don’t care to swim in it, thank you.” He got to his feet and threw back the duvet for Billy.

“Gotta piss,” Billy muttered, awkwardly climbing out of the bed. He hurried to the door, rapping his elbow off the wooden frame as he went through. “Bloody buggering fuck!” He continued cursing even as he closed the bathroom door.

Shaking his head, Dom rummaged around in the top drawer of his dresser, wondering if he even had it anymore. A moment later, with a triumphant little noise he dug out a long slim plastic tube and left it on the nightstand, then took the glass out to the kitchen to refill it with water.

As he returned, the bathroom door opened and Billy shambled out.

“Hullo, Dom.” His face was pale except for two red patches high on his cheeks.

Dom smiled at him. “Hullo, Bills. Ready to go back to bed?”

Billy snickered. “Are you flirting with me again?”

“Every chance I get. Come on, then, or I’ll pick you up and carry you.”

“Tease.” Billy wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. “When the fuck did Hawaii get so cold? Do you even _have_ central heating?”

“Yes, I do. Would you move your arse, please?” Dom gave him a gentle push.

Billy shuffled into the bedroom. “Then turn the damn heat on. God, it was warmer in Glasgow.”

“Demanding, aren’t you?” Dom grinned. He waited until Billy climbed into bed, then handed him the water before turning away.

“Where are you going?”

“To get you another blanket.”

“You’re a peach, wee Dom.”

Dom chuckled as he opened the closet, reached up to the top shelf, and took down the plastic protector. Unzipping it, he shook out the blanket, and returned to the bed. He noted with approval the nearly-empty glass on the nightstand as he pulled the duvet off the bed.

“Oi, what the hell are you doing?” Billy protested, curling up on his side under the light sheet, shivering.

“Patience, my beloved whinger.” Dom spread the blanket over him, then pulled the duvet back up and tucked it under his chin.

“Whinger? _Whinger_? I have not yet begun to whinge. The depths of my whinge have not been plumbed.” Billy clutched the edge of the duvet and pulled it tightly against him. “The whingeing, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind, the whingeing is—”

“Bills,” Dom said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re nattering, love.” He reached for the slender tube he’d set on the nightstand.

Billy’s eyes widened. “What are you going to do with that?”

Dom cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well, I’m certainly not going to plumb the depths of your whinge with it.”

It startled Billy into a laugh, which quickly turned into a fit of giggles.

Dom just looked at him.

“What?” Billy tittered.

“Billy, you haven’t _giggled_ in three years,” Dom said heavily, trying to keep a straight face. “And the last time was when you were stoned on some very fine weed. Cut it out, you’re scaring me, here.”

Billy giggled again, but made a valiant effort to tone it down to slightly manic chuckling. He suddenly reached up to grab the front of Dom’s shirt and haul him closer. “Want to plumb my depths, Dom?” he asked huskily, then snickered.

“Not at the moment, love. I’d be too afraid you’d reach the heights of passion and ecstasy, and then _giggle_ ,” he grinned. He unscrewed the top from the plastic tube, tipping it to let a glass thermometer slide out.

“Ohhhh,” Billy said in understanding, then asked, “’S oral, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Good. Looks cold.” He watched as Dom shook it sharply several times, checked its reading, and then held it above Billy’s lips.

“Well, I _would_ have warmed it for you,” Dom said wryly. “Open up, Bill.”

“You look like you know what you’re doing,” he commented, then let Dom place the end of the thermometer under his tongue.

“Mum taught me. She also stocks me up with gauze, medical tape, and pre-packaged burn dressings, should you ever be in need of any of those,” Dom smiled. “I just want to check what temperature you’re at, but the paracetamol should start to help soon.” He kept talking just to keep Billy quiet. “Just nod or shake your head and keep that thing where it is, but are you still cold, Bill?”

Billy nodded.

“Just a little cold?”

Billy shook his head.

“Are you still _really_ cold?”

Billy nodded.

“Are you penguins-with-frostbite cold?”

Billy smiled around the thermometer and shook his head.

“Well, at least that’s something, then, yeah?” Dom chuckled. He stroked the damp hair off Billy’s forehead. “Don’t worry, love, you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Billy nodded in agreement.

“When I’m done with this, I’ll just go make some—”

Billy shook his head emphatically.

“But I was just going to go—”

He shook his head again, eyes on Dom’s.

“All right,” Dom said fondly, rubbing Billy’s chest through the covers. “I’ll stay with you.”

Billy reached up to take the thermometer out of his mouth, but Dom stopped him.

“Leave it for a few more seconds. But tell me anyway,” he smiled.

Billy huffed a breath out his nose, but thought for a moment before lifting his arms from under the blankets, taking Dom’s hand, and laying it on the left side of his chest. He covered Dom’s hand with both  of his and pressed down hard, cradling Dom’s hand to his chest, his eyes never leaving Dom’s.

Dom was moved. His face softened as he said, “Either you love me…”

Billy nodded, then lifted one hand to make a ‘keep going’ gesture.

“You love me, and…and you missed me.”

Billy smiled around the thermometer again and nodded. He continued to hold Dom’s hand against his chest.

“Ah, Bills,” Dom murmured. “How did I ever make it through the last six months without you? I love you, too.” He gently removed the thermometer from Billy’s mouth.

“Dom, I—”

“Shh. Hold that thought for a minute.” Dom held the thermometer up, angling it to read the temperature. “Oh Bills, no wonder you don’t feel well, you’re running a fever of one hundred and two. Close your eyes and go to sleep, love. I’ll wake you up in four hours for some more paracetamol.”

Billy obediently closed his eyes. “Did you turn the heat up? Or do you have any more blankets?”

“You’re still cold?”

“Yeah. ‘S cold in here. So much for Hawaii being fuckin’ paradise.”

“I hate to tell you this, Bill, but it’s just you. It’s the fever making you feel cold,” Dom said kindly, reaching over with his free hand to wipe the sheen of sweat from Billy’s forehead. “Just go to sleep, you’ll feel better soon.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to get to sleep when I can’t stop shaking?” he complained. “This is rubbish. I don’t have a fever. ‘M not sick, I’m just cold. And if you won’t turn the fucking heat up—” He started to climb across the bed away from Dom. “—then I’m gonna go take a hot bath before my teeth chatter right out of my fucking head.” He threw back the duvet, swearing, “Christ, I take back the no-penguins thing. It’s sodding well Arctic in here.” He stood up, then promptly sat down again, missing the edge of the bed entirely and sprawling gracelessly on the floor.

“Shite, Billy—” Dom hurried around the end of the bed.

“You fucker!” Billy cried in an injured voice. “What was that for?”

“What? What was what for?” Dom asked, bending down to haul Billy to his feet by his arms.

“Why’d you move the bed?” He drew his eyebrows together. “Made me fall, you did. ‘S not nice, you know, I think I hurt my knee.”

“I didn’t—” Dom began to protest, then gave up. “I’m sorry, Billy. Here, on the bed with you now.” He gently pushed Billy down onto the bed and crouched down in front of him. “Shall I kiss it better?”

“What am I, five?” he demanded. After a moment, he said, “Well, go on, then.”

Dom hid his smile and feathered several light kisses all over Billy’s knees. He looked up to see Billy staring at him glassily, mouth absently open, cheeks flushed. If Dom hadn’t known about the fever, he would have said Billy looked wanton, ready for a lengthy shag. He stood again. “Stay there.”

“’M gonna take a hot bath.”

“No, you need to sleep, love. I’ll help you get to sleep.” Dom turned to the dresser and pulled out a pair of Billy’s plaid flannel trousers. He’d never worn them before in Hawaii, having no need for them, but he’d insisted on leaving them there nonetheless. Dom was grateful for a change for Billy’s stubbornness. “Here, put these on, and you’ll be toasty warm.”

Billy’s face lit up. “Flannel. Flannel’s warm. I love you, Dom.” He snatched the trousers and hurriedly yanked them on.

Dom chuckled. “Love you too, Bills.” He stripped off his jeans, leaving himself clad in only his pants and t-shirt.

Billy looked at him. “I’m too tired for sex.”

“That’s all right, because you’re not getting any,” Dom grinned. “Get back under the covers.”

Billy willingly crawled into bed again, huddling under the blanket and duvet. “It’s not as warm as a bath.”

Dom climbed into the bed, lying down beside him. “No, but I am. Come here, Billy love. Let me warm you up.”

Billy rolled over and glued himself full-length to Dom. “I feel a bit shite, Dom.”

“I know you do.” He kissed the top of Billy’s head as he wrapped his arms tightly about him, feeling him shivering. “All right, you may start now.”

Billy turned his hot face against Dom’s shoulder. “Start what?”

“Start stealing every last particle of warmth from my body,” Dom smiled, kissing him again.

“Maybe I will, then. You won’t have me arrested for theft, will you?”

Dom laughed soundlessly. “Depends. Would I get to use handcuffs?”

“Cheeky bugger. M’ hands are so cold they’d break off.”

“Where are they, then?” Dom shifted underneath him. “Put them on my sides.”

“No, too cold. That’d be mean,” Billy mumbled into Dom’s shirt.

“I can take it, I’m a tough bloke. Go on, put them under my arms.”

“I’m not sticking my hands in your oxters!” he protested.

“No, not in my armpits, you silly tit.” Dom nuzzled his nose in Billy’s hair. “On my ribs. Do it.”

Billy slowly, lightly rested his hands on Dom’s sides. When Dom tucked his elbows in, trapping Billy’s hands, Billy made a noise of relief and pressed himself even tighter against Dom’s body. “You’re warm,” he whispered. “You’re so warm, Dom.”

Dom, between the heavy warmth of the covers and the heat rolling off Billy, was already beginning to sweat. “Yeah. I am.”

“That’s what I needed,” he breathed. “Needed my Dom.”

“I know,” Dom murmured. “Shh. Sleep, love.”

Billy slept.

 

 

Sometime later Dom woke, drenched with sweat, to find Billy tangled in the blanket and attempting to get up. “Where’re you going, Bills?” he asked gruffly, shoving the duvet off himself.

“Rehearsal,” he mumbled. “Rehearsing the swimming pool. Don’t tell Marg, she’ll be pissed.”

Dom was instantly wide awake and sitting up. “Stay in bed, Bill, you’re not well.”

“Rehearsing the swimming pool,” he repeated, finally untangling himself and staggering to his feet. “Good thing. ‘S fuckin’ hot.”

Dom quickly crawled across the bed and followed Billy, who was already nearly at the door. He grabbed him and pulled him to a standstill, dismayed by the slick layer of sweat coating his skin, soaking his t-shirt. “There’s no rehearsal, Bill, come on back to bed.”

Billy shook his head, doggedly insisting. “Gotta. Rehearsal.”

“Rehearsal’s been cancelled. C’mon.”

“Why?”

Dom frantically tried to think of something, anything. “They accidentally drained the swimming pool.”

“ _Idiots_. Okay. I don’t feel well.” His face twisted.

“I know. Why don’t you take a nap, love?”

“No—I don’t feel well—I think I’m going to—” Even the fever spots high on his cheeks suddenly blanched.

“Are you going to be sick, Bill?” Dom asked urgently, already shepherding him toward the bathroom.

“Yeah. Gonna boak, Dom. Gonna boak,” he grunted. Dom steered him into the bathroom and lifted the toilet seat just in time. As Billy dropped to his knees and began to throw up, Dom rubbed his back and focused inwards, trying to ignore the sounds that were making his own stomach queasy.

As quickly as it began, it was over, and Billy was shakily getting to his feet. Dom reached forward and flushed the toilet, then directed Billy to the sink and quietly instructed him to rinse out his mouth, giving him some mouthwash to get rid of the horrid taste. While he did so, Dom wet a facecloth with cool water and gently wiped the back of Billy’s neck, and when Billy spat into the sink for the last time and straightened up, Dom washed the sweat off his face as well.

“Come on, love,” Dom murmured, leading him back to the bedroom. “Let’s get you into a dry shirt and shorts, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Billy mumbled. “’M minging.”

“No, you’re not,” he said softly. “You’re lovely. You’re just a bit sweaty, is all.”

“It’s hot. Why’s it so hot? And it’s awfully bloody dark for the middle of the day. Is there a storm? I like storms. ‘Course, I’ve never been in a storm in _Hawaii_.” His voice was muffled as Dom pulled his t-shirt off over his head. “Are the storms here bad? Don’t think I’d like to be in a really bad storm, like a hurricane, or do they call them typhoons here?” When Dom pulled his flannels down, Billy stepped out of them, and then his pants. “But I wouldn’t mind being in a not-so-bad storm, ‘specially near the ocean.” He stepped into the fresh dry shorts Dom held out, and his face, under its sheen of sweat, brightened. “Let’s go out in the storm, Dom. I want to see the ocean in the storm, Dom.”

Dom held out a clean t-shirt, but Billy pushed it away. “There’s no storm, Bills, it’s just night-time.”

“Night?” His forehead crinkled. “But it’s so fucking hot. Shouldn’t be this hot at night.”

Dom put his arm around Billy to coax him back to bed, and felt him shaking, tremors wracking his body. “Jesus, Billy. Get back into bed, I need to take your temperature.”

“My temperature? Why? It’s not _me_ that’s hot, it’s fucking Hawaii. Don’t know why you like it here so much,” he grumbled, but docilely crawled under the single sheet left on the bed.

“It has its up side,” Dom said quietly, sitting beside him and picking up the thermometer from the night stand. He shook it, and then gently slid it under Billy’s tongue.

“Wha’?” Billy mumbled around it.

“No, don’t talk,” Dom gently scolded. “What’s the up side?”

Billy nodded, and reached out to twine the fingers of one hand with Dom’s.

“Well, there’s the ocean, and the beach,” Dom smiled at him, and with his other hand stroked the damp hair off Billy’s forehead. “There’s surfing, and luaus—not the shite tourist ones that are tacky as hell, but a _real_ luau—eating roast suckling pig and pineapple with your fingers by firelight while Polynesian dancers make the very earth shake under you, dancing and pounding and the women swaying all around you, you’d love it Bills, it’s incredible. Then there’s the beautiful weather. I know you like your seasons, I know sometimes you crave Glasgow’s cool blustery invigoration, but God, Bills, being able to count on sun and warmth is awfully nice too,” he grinned.

Billy’s glassy, glittering eyes were glued to Dom’s mouth, as if he were having trouble understanding him.

Dom’s smile faded. “Bills? Billy?”

After a moment, Billy sluggishly lifted his eyes.

“Still with me, love?”

He nodded and awkwardly patted Dom’s arm.

“That’s my Bills.” Dom took the thermometer from Billy’s mouth and held it up. “Okay, can you sit up and take a couple more paracetamol?” he casually suggested, but his hands on Billy’s arms brooked no argument.

“What is it?” Billy asked as he struggled upright.

“What’s what?” Dom didn’t give him a chance to say. “I’ll just get you some more water. I’ll be right back.” He picked up the glass and hurried to the bathroom to fill it. When he returned, Billy held the thermometer and was squinting at it.

“What’s my temp’rature?” he demanded as Dom sat at his side again, shoving the glass tube in front of his face.

Dom gently took it from him and gave him his water instead. He put the thermometer aside and shook two pills from the bottle. “Here you go. Take these.”

Billy took them, put them in his mouth, and drank nearly the entire glass of water, glaring at Dom all the while.

Dom sighed and gave in. “One hundred three point five.”

Billy’s forehead puckered. “That’s high, innit?”

“Yes, Bills, it is. I have to admit I’m a bit worried.” He laid his hand on Billy’s hot forehead.

Billy briefly closed his eyes and said, “Your hand is so cool. Feels good.” He looked at Dom again and earnestly said, “Don’t worry, Dom, ‘m okay. Just a bit hot. I’ll be okay. Do you want me to go to sleep now, would that help?”

“Yeah,” Dom said softly, wiping away some of the sweat, “Yeah, love, that would help.”

“Okay. I’ll go to sleep so you won’t worry. An’ I’ll wake up in the morning and be all better,” Billy said solemnly, screwing his eyes shut tightly. “You sleep too.”

“I will. Shh, now.” Dom leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“Sleep with me, Dom.”

“Bills—”

Billy opened his eyes again, took long seconds to focus on Dom’s face. “Don’t have to hold me. Know I’m sweaty. But I—I need you in the bed, Dom.”

Dom’s brows drew together. “Why? What do you mean?”

“Need you next to me. Need to hear you, smell you, feel you beside me. Need to be able to reach out—” Billy stretched out his arm and rested one shaking fingertip on Dom’s thigh, “—and touch you. I—I don’t…” he trailed off, and his eyes blinked slowly.

“Okay. Okay, love.” Dom kissed his forehead again, then rose to circle around to his side of the bed and climb in under the sheet. He reached for Billy. “Come here.”

“No.” He shook his head on the pillow, his eyes fluttering closed. “Too sweaty. Too hot.”

“Then give me your hand,” Dom insisted softly, and when Billy lifted a trembling hand, he grasped it firmly, stroking the back with his thumb. “That’s my Bills. I’m so glad you’re with me, love, I’ve missed you so very much. I can’t be away from you for that long ever again, all right? Never again.”

“Me too,” Billy mumbled.

“Shh, go to sleep now,” Dom murmured, rolling on his side to face him, to watch him in the dim light from the bedside lamp. “Sleep well, love, and tomorrow we’ll go relax on the beach. I bought two new lounge chairs to celebrate you coming home, Bills, and I know you’re going to like these ones, not like those shite plastic things I bought last time, yeah? These ones are really comfortable, and we can even put them in at the water’s edge if we want, it won’t hurt them, and we can lay in the sun and let the waves break over our toes, doesn’t that sound nice, Bills…” Dom lowered his voice and kept talking, his words lulling Billy to sleep, restless and fitful though it was.

For nearly an hour, Dom lay awake, watching Billy. He watched as Billy twitched and shifted and rolled, stroked his forehead when he muttered and moaned, even had to restrain him once when Billy began to thrash, whimpering. At that point, Dom quickly reached for the thermometer, determined that if Billy’s fever had gone up—or even if it remained the same—Dom was going to bundle him into blankets and into the car and drive him to hospital. He carefully held the thermometer between Billy’s lips, his other hand pressing firmly on his hot, sweating forehead, holding his head relatively still even though his legs twitched and stretched. “Shh, Bills,” Dom whispered into his ear as he held the thermometer under his tongue. “It’s all right, love. Shh. Sleep quiet, love, sleep deep and dreamless, and quit making me worry about you.”

Billy instinctively tried to turn his face toward Dom’s voice, but the hand on his forehead prevented him. When his head was held motionless, the rest of his body angled towards Dom and he whimpered.

“Shh, stay quiet, my love. Just a few more seconds and I’ll check your temperature and we’ll see what’s what. Shh, Billy, it’s all right, I love you. Shush now.”

“Dom—” Billy croaked around the thermometer, and his eyelids opened a crack, his eyes glittering fever-bright.

“Shh, Billy love,” Dom crooned, thumb stroking his forehead. “It’s all right, go back to sleep.”

Billy weakly pawed at the hand holding the thermometer and moaned.

Dom thought it had been about long enough, so he gave in and pulled the glass tube from Billy’s mouth. Leaning over, he kissed Billy’s forehead, then held the thermometer up near the bedside lamp to read it. With intense relief, he saw that Billy’s fever had dropped from one hundred three point five, down almost a full degree.

“Dom. Dom,” Billy mumbled, rolling onto his side and burying his face against Dom’s chest.

He quickly put the thermometer back on the nightstand and gathered Billy into his arms. He stroked Billy’s hair, and his back, murmuring quiet, soothing nonsense against his damp skin. Within a few minutes Billy had passed out again, and except for a little twitching and shifting, he slept peacefully. Dom lay awake, but when even the mild restlessness subsided into stillness and quiet, Dom, too, drifted off.

 

 

It was nearly ten in the morning when he woke, the bright light seeping around the edges of the curtains bringing his eyes reluctantly open. He stretched, turned his head on the pillow, and the previous night came rushing back when he saw the crumpled sheets beside him, the rumpled duvet and blanket on the floor beyond the edge of the bed.

And no Billy.

Dom got up, changed out of his pants, and quickly pulled on some swim trunks. Grabbing a t-shirt, he donned it as he walked down the hall, poking his head into every room he passed and finding them all empty. When neither the kitchen nor living room disclosed his partner, Dom began to worry.

“Billy?” he called, going to the window and seeing his car still parked out front. “Where are you, Bills?” Dom crossed the width of the house again to look out the kitchen window, down onto the beach.

No Billy.

“Shitshitshit,” he whispered, throwing the door open and shouting, “ _Billy_!”

“Yes?” His voice—calm, cool, and vaguely amused—came from the patio to Dom’s left.

Startled, Dom whirled to see him lounging in the shade in a deck chair, a light throw over his lap and a mug of tea in his hand.

“You sodding fucking cunt!” Dom snapped, relief making him almost dizzy.

“Good morning to you, too,” Billy replied, a little taken aback. “May I ask what exactly I did to deserve that?”

“You _don’t_ deserve it,” Dom shouted, “But you scared the fucking shite out of me!” He turned back into the house, closing the door a little more forcefully than was needed, and began clattering and banging about, making a pot of coffee.

A moment later he heard the door quietly open and close behind him.

“You want to tell me what that was all about, love?” Billy asked softly. “I don’t quite understand why my sitting on the back terrace should scare you.”

Dom stopped fussing with the coffee. He gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and stared down at his hands. “It wasn’t where you were. It was where you _weren’t_.”

“I’m still not following.”

“Do you remember last night, Bill?”

There was a frown evident in Billy’s voice. “Well, yeah. I was running a fever, I threw up, I slept. Why?”

“Do you remember getting up to go to rehearsal?” Dom persisted. He turned around to see Billy standing at the table, leaning with both hands on one of the chair backs.

Billy was amused. “ _Rehearsal_?”

“Yes. You said you had to go rehearse the swimming pool. Jesus Christ, Billy!” he suddenly exploded. “How was I supposed to know whether you were better this morning, or whether you’d wandered off delirious and determined to rehearse the fucking swimming pool, whatever the hell that means? How was I to know you hadn’t walked into the ocean and not walked out again?”

In a heartbeat Billy was in front of Dom, pulling him into his arms. “Ah, God, I’m sorry, Dom. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Dom pressed his face into the crook of Billy’s neck. “I know you didn’t,” he muttered. “Don’t ever fucking do it again.”

Billy huffed a soft laugh into his ear. “I’ll do my very best, I swear. I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult.”

“It’s okay,” Dom mumbled, the tension beginning to drain. “You look after me when _I’m_ sick, it’s only fair I try and keep you from drowning yourself when you’re completely off your nut.”

“Why, thank you, love,” Billy said wryly.

Dom suddenly lifted his head to peer at Billy closely. “How are you feeling this morning? Come back to the bedroom, let me take your temperature.” He laid a hand on Billy’s forehead.

Billy shook his head against Dom’s hand. “I’m fine. Well, I feel a bit peelie-wally after last night—I’ve about as much strength as a newborn puppy, to be honest—but whatever that was, it was a twenty-four hour version.”

“Are you sure?” Dom frowned, letting his hand slide down the side of Billy’s face to cup his chin. He studied clear green eyes for a moment before saying, “All right. But if you start to feel like shite again, tell me.”

“I will. Stop worrying, Dom,” Billy smiled. “Now, if you don’t mind—can I go sit down, please? I’m a wee bit on the wobbly side.”

“Bugger—of course. Sorry, love,” Dom said quickly, and ushered him through to the living room. Hovering while Billy wearily settled himself on the sofa, he picked up a throw blanket off the armchair and spread it over Billy’s legs. “Another cup of tea? And I’ll get you a little something to eat, yeah?”

“Yeah. That’d be good, thanks.” Billy leaned his head against the back of the sofa. “You’re a peach, my Dom.”

“Aren’t I just? Sit tight.”

 

 

Billy washed down the last of his peanut butter toast with a long swallow of tea. “Thanks, pet, that was good.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll make you some soup for lunch later.” Dom shifted on the sofa, slouching down a little and putting his feet up on the coffee table. He held out one arm. “Come here, you.”

Billy moved over into the circle of Dom’s arms, leaning on his chest, letting himself be cuddled.

Dom kissed the top of his head and murmured, “Welcome home, Bills.”

Billy chuckled softly. “It’s good to be here.”

There was silence for a moment before Dom finally said, “This isn’t your home, though, is it?”

Billy nuzzled his nose against Dom’s chest, and his words were muffled. “All I need in order to be home is to be with you.”

Dom tightened his arms around him. “We need to talk about that.”

“That sounds serious.”

“It is. But _good_ serious,” he hastily added when he felt Billy stiffen slightly. “I hope so, anyway. The thing is, Bills…” he trailed off.

Billy raised his head to search Dom’s face. “What’s going on, love?”

“You probably don’t remember, but…” Dom’s eyes dropped, and after a moment of studying him, Billy laid his head back down and listened. “Last night I told you that I don’t ever want to be away from you for that long ever again. Six months is too much, Bill, when I love you the way I do.” He absently stroked a hand over Billy’s hair. “So I’ve been thinking…” He stopped again.

“Yeah?” Billy asked suspiciously.

“I’m going to quit the show, and move home to Glasgow permanently.”

Billy sat up abruptly. “You can’t quit—don’t be mad!”

“I can too quit,” Dom said quietly. “I can find another job—I can’t find another you.”

“Who the hell said you had to?” Billy exclaimed. “ _I_ certainly didn’t. You can’t quit, Dom, it’s too good a job.”

“I _know_ it’s a good job,” Dom said wretchedly, leaning his head against the back of the sofa. “But what’s the fucking point if I miss you so much I’m constantly miserable?”

“Then I’ll come visit more often. And if you’re willing to try a bit more flying, you can come home on your off-weeks,” Billy said earnestly. He reached out to run the backs of his fingers down Dom’s cheek. “Come on, Dom, think about it—”

“I have thought—”

“No, I don’t think you have, not really,” Billy insisted, his voice gentle but firm. “The odds of you landing such a good, long-term role in Glasgow aren’t high, which would probably mean working in London. Which means living from home anyway. And what if you move home and I land something in L.A.? This is one of the pitfalls to the career we’ve chosen, my love, and we’re going to have to compromise.”

“But—” Dom’s eyes were closed tightly, and two vertical lines between his brows deepened.

“I missed you, too—you know that, don’t you?” Billy asked softly.

“I know.”

“I’ve missed you terribly. And I hate the fact that I’ve seen you once in the last six months.” Billy leaned in and lightly kissed Dom on the lips. “I hate the fact that it takes me so long to get to you. I hate that I’ve wasted so much time being sick, and that I already feel like I could use a bloody nap. But I’m here with you and we have nearly three weeks together and that’s all that fucking matters.”

Dom lifted his head and opened his eyes and cupped Billy’s face with both his hands. “I love you, Bills,” he murmured, sounding less upset. “I’m being a prat, aren’t I? I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right, you know, I should quit my whingeing—”

“I didn’t say—”

“No, I know you didn’t,” Dom finally smiled. “But it’s true. You’re here and I can hold you and kiss you—” He ducked his head in to do just that, then leaned his forehead against Billy’s. “And we’ll figure something out. If you think it would be a daft idea to quit, then I won’t.”

“Good. I’m glad, Dom,” Billy said softly.

Dom chuckled, barely audibly. “Want to hear what a silly git you’ve fallen in love with? I actually feel a little better just knowing you _know_ how much I’ve missed you.”

“It’s not silly. And I do love you, tremendously.” Billy tipped his head back in order to kiss Dom gently on the lips. He was surprised when Dom pulled back.

“As soon as you’re feeling more the thing,” Dom whispered, eyes flicking back and forth between Billy’s, “I’m going to make love to you. Long, slow, passionate love in the bedroom, and then in the living room, and then in the shower, and maybe, if we’re not too tired, maybe even in the kitchen.”

“God, Dom—” Billy murmured.

“But for now, for today,” he continued softly, “You’re going to take it easy. You’re going to have a nap until lunch, have a little wade in the ocean, have a shower, and then have another nap. Is that understood?”

Billy smiled. “Dom—”

“ _Is that understood_?”

He chuckled. “Understood. But I’m only going along with it to get to that ‘bedroom, living room, shower, kitchen’ thing.”

Dom grinned. “I’m looking forward to that myself. All right, lie down, Bills, and nap for a bit.”

Billy shuffled his way across the cushions until he could lay his head in Dom’s lap. He pulled the light throw blanket up over himself and closed his eyes with a tired sigh. “We'll go for a swim later?”

“Whatever you want. Are you comfortable?” Dom stroked his hand across Billy’s hair gently and repetitively.

“Mmm. I’m with you—I couldn’t want for more,” Billy murmured, a tender smile curving his lips.

“Love you, Bills,” Dom whispered. “Sleep well.”

“Love you, too, my wee Dom. Love you too.”


End file.
